Jaune Constantine
by Elithanathile
Summary: Jaune Constantine Arc has lost everything. That's what makes him so dangerous. With a few scraps of magic learned from tomes and a sword he can barely use, he's invaded Beacon with an impossible goal on his mind. Kill Ozpin and get his family back. And he won't let anything or anybody stand in his way. Now if only his team would be more cooperative. AU, No Harem, Pairings Unknown.
1. Hooked

AN: I'm not crazy, you're crazy.

Okay, real talk. This isn't Lord of the Mists, which chapter is about 1/3rd completed and has been for a long time. It also isn't I'm Not the Protagonist, despite that having a finished chapter that I'm waiting until I can go on a real writing-binge to publish.

Nope, this is a new story in a new universe trying something completely new. Because burning plot bunnies. I don't know when this will be updated, probably when I get more inspiration and 3-4 hours of free time. This isn't me abandoning my old stories, this is me having the self-control of a two year-old.

That said, let's get to the actual story. This is a crossover between RWBY (A show that I've liked for a long time) and Constantine/Hellblazer (One I fell into headfirst recently.) The idea came to me out of nowhere, including the final sentence of this chapter, and I'm not 100% sure I know where it's going, either. Great places, obviously.

This story won't be as dark as Constantine or Hellblazer, because _Gods Below_ those are messed up, hopefully I can keep it about RWBY level or slightly below. (This is the part where everyone who's up to date on I'm Not the Protagonist starts laughing-and-or-crying hysterically.)

And another note, Jaune is not Johnstantine. He is not a reincarnation, has no memories, and John doesn't even exist in this universe. The family name does for plot-relevant reasons, but the original character does not. Just a warning for anyone who was coming in with expectations of Teenage!John running around in the RWBY-verse.

Oh yeah. And this is an AU. *jazz hands*

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, which is owned by Rooster Teeth, or Constantine/Hellblazer, which is owned by DC Comics and some other companies. That said, they have some seriously cool ideas that I will shamelessly abuse for my own entertainment.

* * *

Jaune held his head high as he walked towards the bullhead that was steadily filling with teenagers in a variety of colored outfits, a casual smirk smeared across his face like day-old paint. "All you need is confidence," his father used to tell him, the phrase accompanied by a wink and a deft reveal of a small candy or quarter tucked away in his hand. "That's why they call them con-men, you know." With the comforting memory came a wave of pain like a spreading heat across his skin and the smirk stretched slightly, pulling at his face until it felt like it would come apart at the seams.

Nonchalantly getting into line with the rest of the Beacon hopefuls, Jaune lightly tapped his feet in a comforting rhythm to calm his racing heart. _Tap, tap, tap-tap. Tap, tap, tap-tap._ Crocea Mors was an unfamiliar weight at his hip, the weighty piece of metal tied to his belt by a thin ribbon in exchange for a proper sword belt. The figure at the front of the line, a tall girl with purple hair and a Mistralian dress was waved through by the security guards, having passed the inspection.

The line shuffled a few steps forward and Jaune waited until there was a large enough opening before taking a single step to bring him back to his position. The young teen's hands felt sweaty and he resisted the urge to fidget, to wipe his damp palms on his blue jeans or rest them on the pommel of Crocea Mors or any of the other thousand things that would give away his nervousness.

He had every right to be here. He had been accepted, the hastily-made forgeries passing through without incident, and he was on the acceptance list. If he was any other student, he should be able to walk right up to the stone-faced security guards and present his passport and ID with a smile and be on his way to Beacon.

Except that Jaune wasn't. His passport was in the same place as his ID, exactly where he'd left them a week ago. Sitting in the ashes of his family home, probably in the ruined kitchen which used to be below his bedroom. Unless the fire had been so hot it had simply vaporized the unprotected materials instead of burning them. Either way, the end result was the same. Jaune was in a line, ready to illegally gain entry to an international bullhead flight.

The next candidate was waved through and the line shuffled forward once again. Another carefully measured step and Jaune was now only the fifth in a line that used to stretch for nearly a city block. This was Archon, so the distance wasn't that long to begin with, but it was steadily shrinking and Jaune only had one chance to do this. One chance or he would lose it all.

Well that wasn't quite true. This was actually the fourth time he'd been in this line, always ducking out before he got too close and the guards noticed the same teenager showing up again and again. He had an excuse prepared just in case he was approached, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that. This was his last chance, anyway. Any longer and the bullhead would leave, abandoning Jaune to his fate.

As if in answer to his unspoken plea, someone stepped into place behind Jaune, a foot sending a rock skittering to the side of the path. Turning halfway around, Jaune gave the newcomer a judging look, one eyebrow raised. The latecomer was a short girl, with long brown hair done in a braid on one side of her head, a nervous look on her face as she glanced up to see Jaune's look and nearly took a step back. And _thank Oum_ , the girl was holding a passport in her hands, turning it over and over in mindless repetition.

Jaune nearly broke out into a smile of sheer relief at the side, but held it back, instead giving a lingering look at the girl before snorting dismissively and turning away. The girl seemed nervous already, it should be easy to drive her into a state of near-panic. And nobody thought straight when they were panicking.

The wait for the next applicant took a few moments longer, and Jaune once again had to resist the urge to rub his hands together. He briefly considered folding his arms just to keep them in place, but he didn't want to come off as too aggressive to the guards. But cocky, cocky could work. Already mentally rearranging his plans, Jaune inserted his hands into his pockets and began to slouch just slightly, keeping the same smirk on his face. All it takes is confidence.

The girl being scanned, tan with white lines down her arms and a distinct lack of a weapon on her, was handed back her passport and quickly entered the waiting bullhead. The line was waved forward by one severe-looking guard and Jaune waited until the space was clear before taking a large step forward until he was behind the next person, hesitating for a moment, before taking a subtle step backwards, just as the short girl hurried forward. The lighter frame hitting a large object moving the other direction was enough to knock the girl off her feet, sitting down roughly on the ground behind Jaune.

Turning around and acting the picture of a stereotypical smug teenager, Jaune gave the girl another dismissive look, taking in the low-quality of her clothes and simple bow strung across her back. Probably a member of a working family who had been lucky enough to get her aura unlocked and was on her way to Beacon to support her family. Hopefuls like her were a dime a dozen, and would probably be eaten up in Vale before she even made it to initiation. Jaune's thoughts on the girl vanished abruptly as he noticed the small black case that held a passport, on the ground next to the girl. A perfect chance.

Then he looked at the girl again. Not at her clothes or the simple weapon on her back, but at her eyes. They were blue, a color that reminded him all too sharply of his family and were slowly filling with tears, despite a scrunched lip and red cheeks that proved the opposite had been intended. Jaune had always been weak to seeing girls cry, an effect of growing up with seven sisters. And now the all-too-fresh wound was being eagerly stabbed by this one girl and her all-too-easily aroused tear-ducts. Really, there was only one option.

Jaune let out a quiet curse before turning around and leaning down to offer a hand to the young girl. "Sorry 'bout that, Love. Didn't mean to knock you down. I'm just a mite too strong for my own good, you might say." That was a blatant lie. Jaune had been the weakest member of his family, preferring to stay inside and read dusty old tomes instead of train with his siblings. He hadn't even planned to be a huntsman at all, before the choice was made for him.

The girl looked up at him with wide eyes before quickly brushing one arm across her eyes to wipe away the moisture and taking the offered hand without a second thought. Really, such trust in a stranger was near mind-boggling. She wouldn't survive a day in Vale proper. Hoisting the girl onto her feet with a display of strength that Jaune did his best to make effortless, he took an intentionally long look over the girl in front of him, letting his eye linger slightly on her face and legs. She wasn't bad-looking, to be sure, but more in a little sister kind of way than anything to pursue romantically.

Leaning over once more towards the passport left abandoned on the ground, Jaune asked in a deceptively casual tone, "And what's a cute little thing like you doing all the way out here in Archon? Plan to take the hunter exam?" Hopefully the combination of look and flattery would be a sufficient distraction.

As he reached down to grasp the small black case with his left hand, the fingers of his right curled into his sleeve and produced a similar-looking black case, down to the fake-leather outside stamped with the emblem of the kingdom, a cross entwined with a winged snake. Straightening again, the real passport disappeared into the right sleeve while Jaune turned to the girl and presented the fake with a flourish and small bow. "I believe you dropped this, love."

The girl seemed almost dazed, a slight flush on her cheeks and eyes nearly glued to Jaune's own, blue meeting blue. Jaune let the glance continue for a moment before lazily waving the black book in his hand before the girl's eyes, blocking her vision for a moment. "I'm flattered you're looking, but isn't this a wee bit more important?"

The blue orbs locked onto the offered object and with a flash it was torn from Jaune's grip and was held securely between the girl's small palms. Jaune blinked in confusion for a moment, glancing between his now empty grasp and to where the booklet now sat, before grinning. "Now that's a nice trick, love. Can't wait to see how well you'd use that while fighting the grimm." Moving small objects from one place to another near-instantaneously? Perfect for refilling ammunition with a glance or planting traps that didn't exist until you were nearly on top of them.

The still-nameless girl opened her mouth, but all that came out was a squeak, before it was clamped shut again and the young girl's face grew even more red. Jaune just laughed. "Don't worry about it, lass. We can talk more on the flight over. For now," he said, motioning towards the leather object held in her grasp, "focus on that. Maybe put it away in a pocket or bag for now, just to ensure it doesn't get lost until you need it? How's about that?"

Quickly nodding, the girl carefully set the case inside a pocket on her skirt, before ducking her head to avoid eye contact with Jaune. Chuckling audibly, Jaune turned back towards the front of the line and instantly noted with no small amount of panic that he was the next person in line.

Making sure to keep his back turned towards the girl behind him, Jaune pulled out the passport and opened it, barely glancing at the lines of text and carefully placed pictures before deftly plucking a thin tube of film from where it had been buried in the cuff of his white buttoned shirt and unrolling it to reveal his own face and a number of facts printed onto thin plastic wrap. A tube of glue emerged from the other cuff and covered the rear face of the film before it was placed onto the credit-card sized passport. Minor adjustments and it was Jaune's own face staring up at him, with only a few minor bumps to show the deception.

And then the final touch. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, Jaune licked his thumb before passing it over the right side of the passport several times, smearing his saliva onto the plastic. Task complete, he closed the case just in time to step forward with a cocky grin to the pair of guards waiting for him. Severe, stern, but also tired. They'd been here since eight in the morning, nearly twelve hours ago. Jaune would know, he'd been here longer.

"ID please," the guard with a mustache said calmly. He was in the same uniform as his counterpart, meaning gray pants and a gray suit, along with a sharp blue cap to make the whole thing seem official. Big beneath the suit too. Could probably break Jaune like a twig. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"Naturally, officer," Jaune said, smirk back in place. "And it's a pleasure to meet you as well. Now if you'll just wait a moment…" he reached into his back pocket. Then his front pocket. He adjusted Crocea Mors to reach the other back pocket. By now the guards were starting to pay attention, a gleam of interest coming to their eyes. "I swear I had it," Jaune said, letting some of the panic he was feeling bleed into his voice.

The two guards exchanged a look before the clean-shaven man stepped forward. "Excuse me sir, we need to see your ID before you can step onto the bullhead." Jaune looked up and glanced briefly between the two men before reaching frantically into a pocket he had already searched.

"Sir, we can't let you on if you don't have an ID. Please step aside and let the next person go."

"That's not it!" Jaune said, pulling out his scroll. "Mom said this would happen, that I'd forget it someday and get pulled over and go to jail because I'd left it behind." Under his breath, he muttered, "Oum thank that woman." Quickly expanding the scroll and picking through the mess of free apps he'd installed on the stolen scroll to mask the factory reset he'd performed shortly after obtaining it. "Just wait, here it is!"

Pulling up the picture, he thrust the scroll toward the two guards, allowing them to see it for themselves. It was sloppily taken, with bad lighting and a cheap tile counter as the background. But it clearly showed a picture of a seventeen year-old Jaune Arc with a dopey smile, along with lines of facts about his birth, blood type, security number, and more. It was the picture of an official document, and the angle proved that the card had some thickness to it, instead of just paper.

That's all it was, naturally. Paper, printed from a library with a fake ID, pasted to thin cardboard, and the photo shot from a scroll taken from a lost and found. All fake. But would the guards be able to tell that? The two men studied the picture carefully, glancing at it for what seemed like an eternity. When they finally nodded and handed the scroll back, Jaune's hands were shaking as he accepted the thin device, pocketing it and taking the moment to grip the thin fabric of his jeans and steady himself.

When he pulled his hands free again, they were still and he was smirking again. One step down. A thousand and one to go. "Do you have your passport?" the mustached guard asked, with a hint of amusement. "Or did you leave that behind as well."

Jaune shot him the best insulted look he could and pulled out the thin black case. "Of course not, I wouldn't forget something that important." He handed over the object with a casual flourish and worked to quell the desperation in his chest. Thirty more seconds.

The clean-shaved guard flipped open the case and inspected the paper inside with much less care than they had given the ID. Nobody would be stupid enough to try and forge their papers to get into Beacon and then forget one of the two objects. A teenager accidentally leaving something behind? Thousands happened a day. Now this was just a formality. One that was about to become a felony in a few more seconds.

The ID was passed to the guard's mustached companion who pulled out a thin rod, one side glass with small bulbs behind. A UV lamp. Taking a deep breath, Jaune casually stomped his foot on the ground, putting the full weight of his body on the small glass tube hidden inside his shoe. The glass fractured, then burst open from the inside, sending small glass shards shooting into Jaune's heel, pain weathered by the teen gritting his death.

The UV lamp turned on, briefly showing a smeared pattern of blue and green on the right side of the card before a bulb shattered and sparks raced across the metal surface, causing the guard to jerk back, releasing his grip on the rod before his reflexes kicked in and the other hand darted down to grab the rod before it hit the hard ground below. The mustached guard looked at the rod and tried to turn it on, cursing briefly as it failed to do so.

Jaune breathed a silent sigh of relief. It would have been better if the lamp had hit the ground and fractured, but it didn't matter so long as it failed to operate. The guard hit the side of the rod with a hand and Jaune's breath hitched as it flicked on again. Wan and flickering, but still operational. Jaune's back molars ground together briefly and he promised himself that he would have his due if this failed.

But instead of turning back to scan the card once again, the guard turned and handed the small case back to Jaune. "Here you are, sorry about that. I got a brief look though, and you're free to go." It took everything Jaune had to keep his composure, smirking up at the guard and accepting the passport back with a deft flick of the wrist before he walked forward, his shoes making tinny sounds as they hit the metal gangplank leading to the bullhead. Behind him, he could hear the tired voice saying "ID please?"

As Jaune finally boarded the bullhead, he took a few steps into the interior before dropping his mask and leaning against a nearby wall to catch his breath and take his weight off his injured foot. That had been one of the worst experiences of Jaune's life. He'd been told as he grew up to be honest, to never lie, that "an Arc never breaks their word." And what he just did spit upon everything his mother had taught him.

And yet, as Jaune took slow, steady breaths to prevent himself from hyperventilating, he couldn't help the large grin blooming across his face. That was the most exciting thing he had ever done. Living the lie, manufacturing the perfect story and the utter thrill of dancing so close to discovery before pulling it off. "Careful, mate," Jaune whispered to himself, gazing blankly into the ship. "You just might get addicted to this."

"B-But I know that this was my passport! I checked before I left the house! I promise!"

The smile fell from Jaune's face and he pushed himself back onto his feet, making a beeline away from the entrance to the bullhead and towards the back, where a line of seats was set up, although barely any of there were being used, most preferring to stand clustered in groups, whispering together. This was only one of five bullheads heading to Vale, and from there to Beacon. Thousands were accepted every year, but only those who could survive and pass the fabled initiation were accepted into the vaunted halls of the establishment.

Settling down onto one of the chairs, Jaune bowed his head and covered his ears with his hands. He didn't need to hear what was being said to know what was happening just outside the bullhead. The young girl —he still didn't even known her burning _name_ — was protesting that she had her passport, but all she would find securely tucked away into a pocket so she "wouldn't lose it" was a leather-covered booklet listing the basic rules of Archon, something that could be found in every home in the city.

The guards would be understanding, they could make the mistaken connection just as easily as Jaune could form it. But the rules were rules and even a young girl full of hope and dreams couldn't be exempt. She would stay behind. And Jaune would take her place.

"You broke the deal." Jaune spoke in a whisper, hands still covering his ears, his own voice a mere murmur. "The scanner would break, and you would be free." Slowly removing his hands, he reached into the shirt pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned lighter, the metal casing scratched and dented in places. Flipping the top open he clicked the flint several times, sparks flying before it caught and a small orange flame glowed in the air before the teen.

Despite the lack of fuel, a thin stream of smoke began to emerge from the tiny flame, flattening and darkening until it was a gray sheet. Eyes blinked open in the smoke, and a mouth of sharp teeth opened wide, tasting the heat before closing into gray blankness once more before it spoke in smoke and broken dreams. "The deal was kept, Bright One. The accursed mechanism did shatter, as was pronounced by the sacred words. And besides," it snarled, the smell of smoke sharpening into the scent of burnt flesh, "I was contained by you, _chained_ by you. I owe you no allegiance, Bright One."

Jaune sat back in the chair, propping his right leg onto his knee and holding the lighter in front of him. "But don't forget, you were the one who attacked first, Adfrilengyaq. You broke the treaty and attempted my soul. And you lost, the price of your arrogance being a deal. Your assistance in one simple task. In exchange, your freedom."

Letting his head loll back onto the headrest of the chair, Jaune ignored the flickering smoke before him, speaking while staring at the ceiling. "You have permission to break of one the abominations of humankind and obtain your freedom. I commit a sin, pulling my sin closer to hell. Really, you win no matter what. Unless…" he left it trailing, knowing the imp would fill in the blanks on his own. Unless the demon had broken the contract.

"But hey, none of my business which choice you make," Jaune said casually. "Just means you get to stick with me a little longer, Adfrilengyaq. Lucky you, mate. I've probably got a few more vials stashed away somewhere, I'm sure they'll be quite comfy." It was a bluff. Jaune did have more vials, but none that would be able to hold the imp for very long. In a few days the demon would break free and have his revenge, most likely while Jaune was asleep.

"So how about this," Jaune said, leaning forward once again and fixing his eyes on the trail of smoke. "You're useless, barely even an imp." The demon shivered with anger, teeth bared, but refrained from speaking. "So we make one more pact. You steer clear of me, never attack me again, and I release you from your broken contract. You get freedom and never have to deal with me again."

The demon growled again but Jaune knew he had him. It was a contest of wills, and there was nothing in it for the demon. Eventually he growled and the burnt smell subsided, becoming the slightly nostalgic scent of a woodfire once again. "Very well, Bright One. This one accepts the new contract. Pronounce the sacred words that I may be rid of you."

"Well no need to be rude about it," Jaune muttered, drawing another growl from the demon before he began. "Armuletum Ostralkurban," the teen muttered, closing his eyes and forming one hand into the shape of a claw with his thumb and two fingers. "Astrolquerious Lausichstein Exceriormortem Finalistrum." When he opened his eyes again, the smoke and the imp inside it were gone, only the faint smell of burnt wood remaining.

Flipping the lid of the lighter shut once more, Jaune surveyed the inside of the bullhead and noticed numerous gazes, either fearful or confused turned towards him. Giving a lazy wave and a cocky smirk, Jaune simply tucked the lighter back into his chest pocket and reached down to undue the laces on his shoes. Removing the footwear, he turned it upside down and shook it lightly, causing a small rain of glass shards and a miniature cork to fall out. Satisfied, Jaune placed the shoe on the chair next to him and slowly began picking the larger pieces of glass out of his foot, letting them fall to the floor one by one. He didn't have the instruments to pluck out the smaller shards, but this would have to do for now.

With the sound of a magnetic lock releasing and a slight shudder, the bullhead began to take off, the slight motion causing many of the standing applicants to hasten to the seats lining the outside of the aircraft. By the time the majority of people were settled, there were several seats to either side of Jaune left unfilled. Smirking, Jaune fit his shoe back onto his foot and leaned back in his chair once more, lightly tapping his foot against the floor. _Tap, tap, tap-tap. Tap, tap, tap-tap._

Two steps down, one thousand and one to go.

 _My name is Jaune Constantine Arc. I_ _'m the one who'll take your money, take your heart, and leave you wanting more. I'll chase away your demons, all charm and arrogance, and use your gratitude as a weapon against you. I'll walk away with a nod and a wink and leave you thinking I'll come back one day. I walk my path alone because there's nobody else to walk it with me._

 _My name is Jaune Constantine Arc. And I_ _'m the one who will kill Professor Ozpin. For good._

* * *

End AN: Well, hopefully that was fun for some of you and wasn't too terrible for the rest. As you can see, there's some hints of what happened in the past sprinkled in here, although we probably won't get to the actual details for a bit. Hopefully this Jaune is fun to read, I've been trying to express what's going on with his actions more than his thoughts, and am not quite sure how well it worked.

And her name was Violet, if anyone was wondering.

That said, there's not a ton left to say here, except that the magic system will (probably) be explained in future chapters. Hope to see y'all next time!


	2. The Devil's Trenchcoat

AN: So not only has this been done for several weeks and I forgot to publish it, but I also finished the next chapter and forgot about it. Aren't I just the best at this?

Happy Holidays to all who are celebrating, and huzzah for having a break from school/college/work for everyone! Enjoy, I guess?

More AU stuff, more magic stuff, and Jaune gets a trenchcoat! And Jaune finally gets to Beacon in chapter 4 if anyone has been waiting for that. And a warning to people who care, there is an OC that appears in the next few chapters with a relatively major role. But if that isn't your cup of tea, don't worry, this is a partial crossover with Constantine, so friends die off real fast. They'll be gone soon. Also I needed to fill a role and I didn't want to kill off any canon characters.

Warnings: Blood, Bad English Accents, Bad Everything Accents, Super Late Chapters, and Is-It-Huntress-Or-Huntswoman?

Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to other people, etcetora.

* * *

Tossing Crocea Mors onto the bed of the hotel room, Jaune collapsed next to it with a slight bounce, relishing the opportunity to take some weight off his injured foot. With thousands flocking to Vale for initiation in a week, the hotels were booked for miles and Jaune had been forced to voyage out into the outskirts of the large city to find a hotel that wasn't booked solid.

After taking a moment to catch his breath after an hour of walking and four flights of stairs, Jaune lifted his head to take a look around the small room. It was small, with barely enough room for a bed, a dresser, and empty space for someone to lie down. If they had no plans of moving their arms or legs from their sides, that was.

It had been legally paid for by an illegally acquired credit card that Jaune had pickpocketed from a rich-looking man on his journey to the hotel. He probably only had a few days at best before the theft was noticed and the card was shut off. So naturally Jaune had paid for the next week of his stay in advance and had already extracted a few hundred lien for food from the card before disposing of it in a dark alley somewhere. Without a full investigation, it would hopefully be brushed off as yet another petty thief, instead of a bright-eyed Huntsman-in-training.

Speaking of which, Jaune still had no training to speak of. He'd watched his sisters go through drills that made the military seem like a vacation, relying on aura and Arc determination to keep them from dropping dead on their feet, but had done his best to steer clear of the entire mess himself. While seeming like a great idea at the time, he cursed his laziness now. He wasn't a complete failure though. He knew which end of the sword was the sharp one.

Although that might be it.

Groaning out loud, Jaune forced himself off the low-quality bed, ready to head out and begin training. He had a week left and he should use what time he had to prevent himself from appearing to be a complete novice at Beacon. That was the kind of thing that got forged transcripts noticed and the forger expelled. And that wasn't something that Jaune could risk.

Taking a step, Jaune barely caught the nearby dresser in time to prevent his injured leg from buckling beneath himself, the stress from walking for hours and the stinging pain in his heel finally taking their toll. "Or I could stay here and take care of myself," Jaune sighed, giving up on the idea. He would barely be able to walk with the current state of his leg, much less do any actual training.

Testing his leg to see if it could at least bear his weight for a short time, Jaune limped over to the entrance of the hotel room and leaned down to pick up the single duffel bag that held all of his worldly possessions. All his otherworldly ones as well. Dumping the bag on top of the small bed, he unzipped it and pushed past the single set of clothes spread out across the top of the contents, exposing the true contents of the bag.

Whether by chance, fate, or magical intervention, the library was nearly untouched by the fire that had eradicated Jaune's home and before he had fled the scene, chased by the sound of sirens, he had collected as many tomes as he could lay his hands on. Most were like old friends that Jaune had studied for years, but others were new, anything that looked like it might have to do with magic or sorcery.

Picking up a book at random, Jaune flipped it over to check the title. "The magic of homemade cooking," he read out loud, letting the book fall from his hand with a dull thump. Sighing again, Jaune reached between "The World Between" and an unnamed book with a pentacle on the cover to retrieve a thin blue notebook, the corners bent and cover faded. Written in permanent marker on the front, "Jaune's book of being-better-than-a-Huntsman." Not for the first time, Jaune chuckled at his younger self. Had he really been that obnoxious?

Thumbing through the pages, Jaune searched for any mention of a healing spell. While some books were the real deal, many others were useless or only had a few genuine spells inside them, so Jaune had compiled what he could in a notebook. Flipping past runic circles, descriptions of demons, and quotes from long-dead ancestors, Jaune finally reached the end, without a single mention of anything meant for healing.

Clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction, Jaune set the notebook aside with care and reached towards the bag to begin his search. Upon spying the dozens of books occupying the space, he hesitated, not wanting to waste his time searching through all of them. "Old-fashioned it is then," Jaune murmured, turning away.

Sadly enough, a first-aid kit wasn't on the list of things that Jaune had thought to bring with him, so the novice magician settled for the next best thing. As he tore strips off the cheap sheets that had decorated the bed, Jaune mentally tallied how much he would owe the hotel for this. Fifty lien plus extra should cover it, and he resolved to leave the money behind when he left, if only to prevent the staff from hunting him down later and discovering the illegally gained funds.

Jaune had never taken a first-aid class, but he knew the basics. Bleeding was bad. Tying the bedsheet around his heel and ankle a few times before knotting the ends, Jaune slowly placed some weight on his foot to test how well it held up. When sharp spikes of pain began to carry up his ankle and through his knee, Jaune sighed and consigned himself to staying inside for the rest of the evening.

His empty stomach growled, as if overhearing his decision and loudly opposing it. "Oh hush you," Jaune directed towards the complaining organ. "Humans can go a week without food, and it's barely been two days. We'll get food in the morning." It seemed to gurgle in discontent but Jaune ignored it, reaching for a book from the bag, one he hadn't seen before with a eye inscribed in the thick leather cover and several scratch marks on the outside binding. He would need everything he had to make it into Beacon, and preparation was key.

S~~~S~~~S~~~S~~~S~~~S

Slowly sipping at his overpriced coffee, Jaune looked around the establishment he had found himself in. It seemed small but almost homey, with steam one side of the counter from running coffee machines and the slow rumble of quiet conversation in the background. The coffee wasn't too bad either, maybe Jaune would need to come back some time. Sometime between training and studying his magic books. So yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

A young adult with pale blonde hair and brown eyes sat down across from Jaune, wearing an apron with the name of the cafe on it. "So," he said quietly, steepling his fingers on the table. "Why'd you want to come all the way out here to talk to me? Boss said you asked after me personally."

Jaune took another slow sip of coffee before putting the cup down and making eye contact. "Name's Jaune Arc, mate," he said, offering his hand towards the older man. "Heard you might be able to help me."

The other blonde looked down at the proffered hand with a raised eyebrow. "My apologies, but it doesn't take long to learn that anyone who offers their hand in friendship wants something. I'm not in the business of gaining friends or associates right now."

Jaune raised his own eyebrow, before shrugging and retracting the offer. "Fair 'nuff, mate. Shall we get straight to business then?"

"Please."

"Right then." Jaune cleared his throat and sat back in his chair, making sure to maintain eye contact. "You're Royal Orell, ex-Huntsman-in-training after you were expelled from Beacon six months ago."

Royal's face twitched and a snarl nearly overtook his features before it was covered by a mask of calm. "I believe our business is at an end," he said, pushing away from the table.

Jaune reached for his coffee, keeping eye contact. "You're polite, not because you're calm but because it's taking everything you have to stay that way. You slaved for years to get into Beacon and you were unfairly expelled because of a single incident. That's the kind of thing that leaves a black mark on your record. You were probably barely able to get this job, and are one misstep away from losing it. Beacon ruined your life. So," he said, raising the cup to his lips. "How'd you like to get some revenge?"

Royal paused, hesitating for several seconds before turning back and sitting down in the seat once more, fingers gripped before him hard enough to leave white marks. "I'm listening."

Taking another sip from his cup, Jaune used the rim to block sight of the smirk that passed briefly across his face. Setting the cup down once again, he leaned forward and began. "I'm applying to Beacon, and I'll attempt initiation in a week." Seeing the flash of irritation cross his temporary ally's face, he raised his hand to forestall an outburst. "I'm also the son of a conman and have barely trained a day in my life. My aura isn't unlocked and I'm barely fit enough to pass PE class in secondary school. My transcripts to allow entrance were forged. In other words," he added, tapping his finger on the table, "I'm the last person who should ever be inside Beacon and I plan to tear it apart from the inside.

"How'd you like to help me do it."

It was a struggle to keep track of the emotions crossing Royal's face. Fear, greed, envy, confusion, and finally a savage glee. "What do you need." Revenge was one of the easiest emotions to manipulate and it wasn't hard to find an ex-student who had been expelled for abusing a teammate. Someone like that wasn't the kind to accept their new status. And if they were more righteous than Jaune had expected, there was no proof that Jaune had done anything wrong.

"Relax, mate," Jaune said, waving one hand in a casual manner. "Nothing illegal, just a spot of information. Beacon's initiation. Civilians don't know or care, and huntsmen keep the whole thing secret, like some grand joke. I need every edge I can get to pull this off, and going in blind's gonna get myself shot in the foot."

"That's it?" Royal scoffed, leaning back onto the rear two legs of his chair. "Piece of cake, dude. I talked to some other guys, older years, and it turns out initiation changes each year. Protecting civilians, fighting grimm, hunting down and finding another specific student, the list goes on. The whole area's rigged with cams, upper-years get to watch the whole thing and scope out the competition."

Hmm, that made this more difficult. Not being able to plan for initiation left the only option to prepare for everything. Exhausting and overall, futile.

"But," Royal said, holding up a finger and interrupting Jaune's thought process. "Two things always stay the same. One, it always takes place in the Emerald Forest outside Beacon and students are catapulted into the forest from Beacon's cliffs. Something about a landing strategy. Two, the faculty will never intervene." Royal's face became solemn and his gaze grew distant. "Thousands of applicants each year are weeded down into a hundred or less through initiation. They either pass, surrender, or die. People don't go to Beacon to live long lives, they go to sacrifice them for the rest of humanity."

Jaune realized his throat was dry and took another sip from his cup to wet it. "And that's it?" Jaune said, acting unaffected. "Doesn't sound too bad, really. I'd expected more from the fabled Beacon."

Royal studied Jaune's face for a moment before sighing and sitting the chair back down on all four feet. "Hope you wear armor as well as you do that confidence, or else you'll be grimm food." He sighed again, before standing up from the table. "Try not to fail, I'd rather not be a part of someone throwing their life away."

"Couldn't agree more," Jaune said, downing the rest of his coffee and standing up as well. "And a little something for your trouble," he added, setting a fifty lien card down on the table. "You may have saved my life, and I repay my debts."

Royal's eyes widened as he looked down at the card and back up at Jaune. Eventually he chuckled and reached forward to pocket the money. "Give 'em hell, Jaune Arc."

Jaune laughed, giving a final wink before leaving the cafe, the small bell jingling behind him. "Oh you have no idea."

Once outside, he took a deep breath of the polluted air and stared up at the dark clouds lazily floating across the sky. "Might be in for a spot of rain soon," he mumbled, wishing he had a raincoat or umbrella. Another downside of being practically penniless. It might have seemed like a better idea to keep the fifty lien he so generously "donated," but there was a simple reason.

If people come sniffing around wondering how someone found out about initiation, which was information kept very secret to prevent cheating, Royal Orell would be suspect number one. Giving information to a Beacon hopeful, barely anything to shake a stick at. But once money became involved, it turned into a case of accepting bribes. And once Royal realized that, he'd be that much less likely to tell anyone about the strange boy with forged transcripts and no aura.

Turning down a side street, he carried on through a path that would bring him towards the main streets of Vale, where he could head back to the hotel. It was just past noon, but he had one more project planned for the day before he started training. Taking another left, he headed inbetween two buildings, immediately noting the bags of rotting trash by the edges of the path and the graffiti marking the aged bricks.

"Just lovely," Jaune breathed, not fighting it as his legs took him down another block before making another left, leaving him standing at the entrance to a dead-end alleyway, currently occupied by four disheveled looking teenagers holding various makeshift weapons. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said clearly, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. "But I seem to have taken a wrong turn. I don't suppose you chaps would care to direct me towards the main roads?"

The request was ignored, one boy with matted black hair elbowing a shorter boy with brown hair. "See, Allie? Copp's semblance always works! Another one, pulled along like a worm on a hook!"

"I believe you mean a fish on a hook!" Jaune called out helpfully from his position a few meters away. "Unless I am to be used as bait for a larger prey."

"Shaddup!" A stained-looking girl with messy blonde hair done in what was a braid if you were blind and had never seen hair before called. "None o' dis talking outta you, jes' empty your pockets and yous don't get hurt."

Jaune sighed, running a hand through his hair and taking a relaxed stance. "And what about you, big guy?" He asked, making eye contact with the last member of the group. A tall male, with the beginnings of a mustache and a dirty tan trenchcoat covering his shoulders and hanging down to his waist. "Got anything to say before you mug me and leave me for dead?"

The man cocked his head to the side before smiling with surprisingly clean teeth. "Please resist, it is funner that way."

"Lovely," Jaune said, looking up at the sky once again. "Best get this over with then." Undoing the cuff on his shirt sleeve, he rolled up the sleeve past his elbow before reaching into a pocket and producing a small shard of glass. "I knew this would come in handy," he mumbled, drawing a thin line in his forearm with the makeshift knife, causing small beads of blood to well up.

"What in Oum's name!" the afore-named Allie cursed, taking a step back. "What kinda bloody suicidal guy are you?" In opposition to his reaction, the other three stepped forward, readying their makeshift weapons.

Ignoring the group, Jaune gathered some blood on his fingertips and pressed it to a brick on the wall next to himself, before beginning to walk towards the group with his still-bloody fingers held out in front of himself. "Now then, I'd like to keep my money if that's not too much trouble."

The tall man stepped forward, a grin covering his face. "Well done, small one. I look forward to seeing you fall." Another step and he was charging forward, hands empty but curled into fists twice the size of Jaune's hand. As he neared he swung out, aiming directly for Jaune's head.

The blonde magician ducked, reaching outward with his own fist toward the larger man, but was caught unawares by the second fist, coming in below the first and catching Jaune in the stomach, knocking him backwards several feet where he barely kept his footing, breathing heavily to recover his breath and holding one hand over his stomach.

"Do you wish to try again, small one?" the larger man offered, cracking his knuckles with a tone of glee. "Perhaps you will touch me next time."

"Blood vodoo." Jaune said simply, raising his head to face his opponent and wiping spit off his chin with one hand. "That's my semblance. I can use my blood to connect two things, and they act similarly."

"So what?" The larger man asked, stepping forward once more. "The information is appreciated, but not needed. Why tell me what I have no need to know? My fists will crush a puny semblance like that."

"Because," Jaune said, taking a step back until he was near his original position, "I did touch you." He pointed with a bloody finger towards the giant's chin, where a small smear of red was barely visible through the grime. "And," he added, "I can do this." With that declaration, he spun to the side, bringing up one foot in a vicious kick that impacted the wall heavily, directly on the spot he had previously touched with his blood.

The trenchcoat-wearing man felt a moment of confusion before what felt like a truck barrelled into his jaw from the side, knocking him across the narrow alleyway and into a brick wall, where his head hit with a loud crunch. A moment later he slumped to the alley floor and fell still.

Simultaneously, Jaune's arm where he had made the cut cracked audibly, a burning pain lighting up the nerves inside as the bone broke with a snap, causing Jaune to inhale sharply through his teeth, clamping his teeth shut to avoid screaming. A moment later the pain faded into a persistent rhythm of pulsing blood and bone. "So," Jaune asked, voice strained and keeping his broken arm out of sight of the remaining three hooligans. "Who else wants to go."

There was silence in the alley for a short time before the dirty girl stepped up, baring her teeth at Jaune. "I ain't no fool, idjit. People only's got semblinces if'n they's got aura. And you cut yourself, so you ain't got none!" That was a common misconception, as aura could be disabled for a time or held back, but in this case it wasn't wrong.

"And?" Jaune questioned, bringing one hand up to his face and smearing a streak of red across his eyelids. "You saw him get hit, I didn't touch him. So," he asked, bringing his hand away and opening his eyes to reveal they were blood red in color with slitted pupils, "what else do you think I could do to you?"

The afore-named Allie immediately turned tail and ran, heading further into the dead end before grabbing a previously-unseen rope and climbed hand over hand until diving through the second-story window of a nearby house. His remaining friends glanced back at Jaune and his still-red eyes before doing the same, clambering up the rope and into their safehouse within a minute, one hand emerging and pulling rope up after themselves and leaving Jaune alone with the unconscious body.

Waiting a few more moments to see if they re-emerged, Jaune slowly sank down to the dirty ground of the alleyway, bracing his broken arm with the other one. "Can't I just get a single break?" He called out towards the sky, voice filled with frustration. As if in response, a single raindrop fell from the sky and impacted the ground in front of him, before the sky opened up and it truly began to pour.

Jaune briefly considering making a shield to protect himself from the elements, but discarded it as a waste of magic that would only slow his healing further. Standing up once more, he stumbled forward to the body of the larger man, where he began to pull off the old tan trenchcoat. "I'd say I deserve this a wee bit more than you," he grumbled, wrestling with one large arm and then the other.

Once the coat was finally free, he slipped it around his own shoulders and carefully placed his arms into the sleeves, tugging it tight around his already soaked body. On a more balanced form, the coat now hung down to below his knees. Propping up the collar of the coat, Jaune turned away from the unconscious man and walked back out of the alleyway, hoping to find the main road and the hotel before he caught a cold.

S~~~S~~~S~~~S~~~S~~~S

Later that night, after destroying more of the hotel sheet to form a makeshift brace for his arm, Jaune grabbed Crocea Mors and his new favorite coat and headed off to train. The city was dark at night, isolated street lamps lighting up the street periodically, only revealing other late-night travelers when they walked directly beneath them. It would undoubtedly be brighter closer to the center of Vale, but the increased number of people wasn't worth the extra illumination.

It didn't take long to find an abandoned park a few blocks away from the hotel, most likely part of a nearby school that had been shut down a long time ago, judging by the amount of weeds and rust that crawled over the undersized equipment. The area was dim and had almost nobody in sight, with just enough light from nearby lampposts to make out outlines and dim shapes in the surroundings. It was the perfect place for sword training, assuming you wanted to look like a crazed madman waving around a sharp weapon along in the middle of the night.

For nearly an hour, Jaune tried to remember the forms that his sisters used to go through under his mother's training. The stances, the strokes, the placement of his feet. Sadly, his efforts was hampered by his still-broken left arm and the fact that his right leg still wasn't fully healed from the previous day. Magic by default was capable of speeding up healing to some degree, but not to any great extent. His arm would probably still be heavily damaged by initiation, especially without proper medical attention. Which would cost money, and therefore wasn't going to happen.

And so Jaune was trying his best with one arm and the sheath strapped to his hip, fighting to keep his balance and his strikes on the target, an invisible box about chest height in front of him. After another lunge that Jaune was forced to stop early to prevent putting further strain on his leg, he held back an angry growl, fighting the temptation to throw the sword away from himself. "Why does this have to be so hard?" He complained into the empty air.

"Because you're attempting to fight while crippled," a blunt voice sounded out from the darkness.

Jaune cursed internally and spun towards the sound, stumbling slightly due to his foot, resisting the urge to point Crocea Mors towards the noise, knowing it would be less than useless. Instead he pointed the tip of the sword down towards the ground, mentally berating himself for allowing his accent to drop while believing he was alone. He should know better than to take risks like that. "Well now, I know I'm handsome, but I'm fairly certain that stalking a bloke is a crime. All you had to do was ask if that was what you were after. Now just come on out slowly, love, I'd rather see who I'm talking to before I do something rash."

"With what?" the voice asked again, tinged with amusement. "The sword? You'd hurt yourself." By now Jaune could make out that the voice was female, albeit flat and with a touch of gravel in the tone.

"Fair point," Jaune conceded gamely, "but I don't see you moving out from the darkness yet, my skills regardless. So be a darling and quit skulking in the dark like a grimm, if you'd be so kind." Silence was his only response, the faint rustling of leaves in the wind no answer.

Jaune sighed, already regretting what he was about to do. "Did Klaxrgyn send you? Because if he did, you can shove right off, I'm already working on it and rushing me isn't going to help anything." Again, there was no answer. Closing his eyes, Jaune forcefully relaxed his tense muscles, pulling up the mental image of a single unlit match in the dark. Then the match ignited with a sharp scratching sound as if it had been rubbed against a matchbox and Jaune opened his eyes and his _eyes_.

The surroundings were no longer darks, nor light. Pinpricks of light formed shapes, the brightness detailing how far they were. A variety of colors, from dark red to vibrant green forming loose shapes such as leaves of the surrounding trees, the distant lamp-posts, or the far-distant buildings previously invisible in the darkness. Taking a moment to adjust to Fae-sight, Jaune slowly pivoted in place, forcefully blocking out the tiny probes on information that each tiny spot of light offered to him, whispering of _OxygenCarbonChlorophylCellsMoldMitosisIronCrystalsNeonFireLongdeadStillaliveSaveusSaveusSaveusBrightone._

And even more than the evidence of life and mana in the surroundings, Jaune forcefully avoided mental contact with any of the small moving lights, shaped like small insects, floating snakes slithering in the air, or one that looked like a lumbering mass farther away in the park. He had enough trouble without drawing attention from the various demons and spirits in the area.

Slowly turning in place Jaune mentally breathed a sigh of relief upon discovering nothing but the small evidence of life and mana in the world. No spirits, demons or magic. Making another pass, Fae-sight still activated, he stopped upon noticing a section of the world where the brighter pinpricks were absent, leaving space between the _SoilMicrobesMinerals_ and _IronStoneGlass_ of faraway buildings.

Jaune unhesitatingly pointed his sword towards the near-invisible absence and dropped Fae-sight with more than a hint of relief, vision bleeding into his eyes once more as he saw nothing but darkness and shadow outside the glow of the street lamps, a headache already pulsing in his temples. "Alright, love, I found you, so this little game of hide and seek is over. Now come out slowly and we can talk this out like Huntsman to criminal."

A moment passed before a figure emerged from the darkness, intentionally moving into the light so that Jaune could get a good look at their face. Long purple hair and angular eyes, combined with a blood-red Mistralian dress that Jaune knew he had seen before. "Well that would be difficult," she said with barely a trace of emotion in her tone. "Since I am also a Huntswoman."

Slowly looking the girl up and down, Jaune eventually relented and lowered his sword, taking a moment to place Crocea Mors back into the sheath with one hand, requiring a bit of awkward angling. "Alright then, I recognize you at least. So I'll bite and won't even ask if you're someone with a shapeshifter semblance masquerading as another student to get close to me and rob me blind." Meanwhile his mind was racing, attempting to find a way out of this situation. This was worse than a criminal. A criminal wouldn't be going to the same school as him and wouldn't be in a perfect position to leak his lack of ability and aura to the faculty.

"What an interesting life you lead," the purple-haired girl said tonelessly. "Do you often suspect that people are masquerading as strangers to mug you?"

"Just look at this coat!" Jaune proclaimed, raising his arms to showcase the dirty tan color. "Who wouldn't want to get their hands on this beauty!" Allowing both his arms and fake smile to drop, Jaune took a step back from the figure. "Fine, I'll accept that you aren't trying to kill me."

"Well that escalated."

"Shush. But that still doesn't answer why you _are_ here, love. Unless you were enamored by my looks, in which case we can talk elsewhere." As if that was the case. Jaune was well-aware that his looks were fair-to-middling among his family, compared to his sisters, and even in the small town where he grew up, none of the girls showed the slightest signs of interest. It was almost a pity that the famed Arc genetics would never get passed on.

"You've never used a sword before," the girl said bluntly. "I don't want you to die like an idiot so I'll help." For the first time during the entire conversation, the girl's face shifted from the bland indifference into a wide smirk as she ran her own eyes up and down Jaune's lanky form, half-hidden by the trenchcoat. "It would be a waste for the grimm to get you before me."

It was only the long weeks of practicing the confident persona that kept Jaune's jaw from dropping to the ground as he turned into a blushing mess. As it was, he managed to keep his face frozen into a smirk, although he couldn't keep the heat from flooding his cheeks and he almost bit his tongue in shock.

"W-Well, that's very kind of you to offer, love," he said, cursing his unintentional stammer. "But I'm afraid I'm not quite sure how you'd be able to assist me. And well," he coughed awkwardly, "I'm waiting until after graduation before getting involved with anyone." His mother had always drilled safety and not diving into relationships too early into his mind and it was the first excuse that came to mind.

"Then I need to ensure you live that long," the girl said, the smirk still settled comfortably on her face in a way that Jaune couldn't deny was attractive. Reaching behind her back, the girl withdrew a long pole taller than her body that should not have fit back there, settling into a low stance with one end of the pole pointed towards Jaune. "You have a week, and I'll make sure you're ready by then."

All nervousness gone, Jaune struggled to pull Crocea Mors free of the sheath, holding it in front of himself as best as could and entering his own awkward stance. He hated to get this close to a possible future schoolmate, but this way he got free training. And besides, if they became close enough he might be able to influence her into not telling the teachers about his lack of skills.

And then there was no room for consideration as the long pole was expertly batting his blade to the side before spinning around the girl's arm and coming down hard onto the top of his head.

S~~~S~~~S~~~S~~~S~~~S

Jaune let the finished product drop to the bedspread, reaching up to rub one eye with his good arm while letting out a huge yawn. Without a clock he had no idea how late it was, but the moon had hit its apex a while back and was slowly descending down the other side of the night sky. Far past the time he should have gone to sleep, especially after his first real training session. His arms and legs were already aching and it wouldn't be any better tomorrow, the unnamed girl having forced him to promise to show up the next afternoon for further training. Or today, since midnight had already passed.

Yawning again, he looked down at the object he'd just finished crafting. A teardrop-shaped pendant he'd haggled for earlier the day, attached to a rubber band he'd "borrowed" from the same vendor. And on the curved bottom of the pendant was a carefully printed circle inscribed with runes that should, if it worked properly, feel a gravitational pull towards magic. Not like demons and spirits, those were everywhere, but true magic. With any luck, Vale was full of hidden spots planted by magicians long ago that Jaune could raid for supplies.

Shifting the pendant over to the small table, Jaune allowed himself to slump facefirst onto the thin blanket. He'd move in a few minutes, he just needed a moment to rest first. Just… a few minutes…

* * *

End AN: Ooh, a pendant that can sniff out magic? What potentially plot-relevant events could this lead to?

Hmm, not too much in this chapter, things are happening, other things aren't, and some things will happen! Ah, vagueness.

See you all next chapter!


End file.
